#AustralianWriters
When I am making poetry I’m good And happy then. I live in a deep world of angelhoo… Afar from men. And all the great and bright and f…
One comes to love the little saint… As years go by. One learns to love the little sain… ‘O hear me sigh, St. Anthony,
They say—priests say— That God loves the world. Maybe he does, When the dew is pearl’d On the emerald grass,
Ay, ay, ay, the lilies of the gard… With red threads binding them and… These shall be her symbols, for sh… Holy in her maidenhood and very fu… Ay, ay, ay, for she is very girlis…
I know more about flowers, And Pat knows about ships. ‘Schooner’ and 'barquentine’ Are words of note on his lips. Even 'schooner, barque-rigged’
Sometimes the skirts I push throu… Spread circlewise, strong petalled… And look for the rapt moment of a… Like Buddha’s robe. And I, caught up out of the workr…
‘I used to have dozens of handkerc… Of finest lawn. I used to have silk shirts and fin… He’s like a faun This darling out-at-elbows Irish…
I do hate the folk I love– They hurt so. Their least word and act may be Source of woe. ‘Won’t you come to tea with me?’
At ten o’clock the great gong soun… Prelude to splendour. I push back… And all the people leave their boo… Still acquiescent, down the marble… Into the dark where we can’t read.…
I saw a flight of sparrows through… Oh, let us rise Out of the weaknesses of our despa… To burning skies. Let us take wings for flight from…
I in the library, Looking for books to read, Pulled one out twice to see If it fulfilled my need. Butler had written this
Today I saw A market cart going along the road… High-piled and creaking with a son… Of cabbages. The driver sat
Once I thought my love was worth… If tears came. When the wound is mortal, now I k… Few tears flow.
My mission in the world Is to prolong Rapture by turning it Into a song. A song of liberty
The people have drunk the wine of… In the streets of town. They smile as they drift with hear… Uphill and down. The people have drunk the wine of…